


Conspirator

by Fierceawakening



Category: Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 05:05:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2953415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fierceawakening/pseuds/Fierceawakening
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Eric, hunter of Divergents, is actually Divergent himself? What better Erudite to hide in Dauntless than someone who has aptitude for both? A series of little ficlets exploring Eric discovering his own Divergence and deciding to hide it in the best way he can think of: by hunting the others so no one suspects him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I’m restless.

Even that sentence demonstrates it. An Erudite doesn’t speak that way: short, sharp, clipped. The sentence sounds like something a Candor would say, too eager to squeeze out the truth.

Or a Dauntless.

But I can’t — but  _I cannot permit myself to think in such a manner._

Except — that is how I want to say it. I don’t want to say “I have noticed myself having difficulties staying calm.” Or, like my parents keep telling me, “I experience surges of adrenaline and unstable mood. They are illogical. I must resist them until reason returns.”

They’re right. But I don’t want to resist them.

I enjoy them, though I don’t know why.

I am Erudite. I want to know why.

One happened again last night. I was working on my homework for Faction History, reading something about the Dauntless.

It’s always Dauntless. I don’t know why that is, either.

Except that I want to write short sentences, and I want to move, and I want to run. How can I learn about my body, how can I know what it is capable of, if I don’t move?

Anyway I — I “grew so engrossed in the provided material” that I didn’t do anything else. I never even got to my mathematics. It was quiet in the room, but I kept hearing the roar of trains, the thunder of feet, the howl of unrestrained voices.

I fell asleep, dreaming of running. I woke up the next morning with my textbook still open to the account of Dauntless’ founding.

I am Erudite. I want to know about them. It’s only logical that I would want to know.

Someone found out. Must have seen me asleep through a window. Brian. The one who builds telescopes. It would only make sense that the little sneak would find a way to spy on me.

He confronted me, after fourth class. Asked me how long it had taken me to do the math homework. Taunted me, saying I probably struggled with the last problem, that it was likely beyond my cognitive capabilities. He said something about the way I move. That I twitch like some jittery test subject.

I got angry, of course. I wanted to hurt him.

He asked me what my answer was.

I told him I was bored. That I didn’t have to bother with something like the mathematics problem when it was so boring.

I leaned over him. He’s small; I’m big.

He didn’t understand.

Or maybe he did. Maybe he wanted to see me lose control.

I am Erudite. Erudite don’t lose control.

He stared up at me, smirked, and said. “That means you don’t  _know_! Look, everyone! Eric doesn’t know!”

I punched him in the face. Knocked off his glasses. Didn’t care if I hurt myself.

I picked up my foot and stomped on them, ground them under my foot for good measure. The restless thing in me liked it. Wanted more.

He should have left me alone. That would have been the reasonable thing to do.

He looked up at me. Apparently he didn’t need the glasses.

"You are ignorant, Eric," he said. "Ignorant and out of control, and if you don’t  _get_ control of yourself, you’ll be  _factionless_ after your first intelligence test —”

I should have walked away. But I was restless.

I get restless.

I’m restless.

_Erudite aren’t restless._

I lunged at him. I punched him in the stomach. He doubled over, and I kicked him, and kept kicking, even when he fell. I watched him twitch. Wanted to see how his body moved, driven by pain. Instinctive. Unreasoning.

Like I was.

Like I’m not supposed to be.


	2. Chapter 2

I took my test today. I got exactly the results I expected.

Now all I need to do is figure out how best to hide. 

It’s weird. Even though I knew it wasn’t real, I can still feel the sticky wet of blood on my hands, blood on a knife handle I wasn’t actually holding. I can still feel fur between my fingers, hear snarls and growls and snaps, and that weird gurgling kind of breathing when a living thing is about to die. 

I wanted to be Dauntless. My heart is still racing, and somehow part of it still feels good. 

I didn’t want to kill. I must not have wanted to kill. I must have been angry, hurt, tired of all those other Erudite children, calling me an ignorant fool.

Tired of being called out of control when I fought back.

Tired of losing control.

Before I knew what Divergence was, I called this part of me “restless.” I tried to observe it, like any good Erudite would. Except I’d get caught up in it, and when I did, I couldn’t think. 

I used to think it wanted things. I used to think it made me angry, made the blood pound in my head and the adrenaline race through me, like a beast. 

Maybe it did. Jeanine Matthews says Divergents are a threat. Maybe this is why. I don’t fit. Maybe that makes me cruel. 

Except killing a snarling dog before it kills you is a Dauntless thing to do, not a Divergent one. The Divergent thing was figuring out where to stab it, what places on its body would do the most damage. The Divergent thing was  _thinking,_ like an Erudite, instead of just leaping, like an _idiot_. 

(Actually, the really Divergent thing would just be to make it disappear. The whole thing’s just a stupid sim anyway, so who cares? It’s not real. But I don’t trust the Stiff who tested me enough to let me get away with that.) 

She was nice about it, though, in that Stiff kind of way that made me want to punch her in the face and feel glad she’d really bleed. 

I didn’t let her say anything. When the test was over she started to tell me what my result was. I cut her off. 

"Dauntless," I said. "I’m Dauntless." 

"Well, yes, but you also showed —" 

"But nothing. I’m Dauntless and I’m leaving Erudite. That’s it." 

She looked at me for a second, like she didn’t know if I knew. Then she realized I come from Erudite. Of course I knew.

"No," she said. "You’re Divergent."

"Don’t." 

"You’re not — you’re not in Erudite right now. And I’m from Abnegation. There’s no camera here. You’re safe." 

I wasn’t sure if I ought to play dumb or if I should just tell her off. I wasn’t sure I cared either, though. And besides, I’d just said I expected to be Dauntless, through and through.

I’m still not sure if that is wisest. But I’d already said it, and Dauntless are supposed to be proud.

"Nothing to be safe from," I answered. I slouched, really low, and curled my lip like I wanted to spit on the floor. "Unless it’s my parents, getting all  _pissed off_.”

"I — I don’t mean to impose. It’s just — We can help you."

"Did you hear me just now?"

"I did."

"Did you see me rip apart that dog?"

 She looked down.

 "I don’t need your  _help_ , Stiff. I know what I’m doing. So leave me alone."

 She did.


End file.
